


The Eye of the Beholder

by suallenparker



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Divorce!Belle, F/M, Lawyer!Gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suallenparker/pseuds/suallenparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle French starts crying in his office after her divorce is finally finalized, lawyer Gold wants nothing more to console his client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eye of the Beholder

Unfortunately Belle French was beautiful. Long, soft curls he wanted to ran his hands through and the softest looking lips he fantasized about kissing whenever she said something to him. Today she looked particularly stunning, Her brown curls framing her face, her lips pink and full. She was dressed in a sleeveless yellow blouse with small white polka dots, combined to a pastel green tulip skirt that ended right above her bare knees. She looked like spring and sunshine. 

So, yes, Belle was beautiful, even when tears welled up in her eyes. Normally Rumford Gold didn't mind the company of beautiful women, he usually quite enjoyed it. With Belle he just enjoyed it a little too much. Because Belle wasn't just beautiful, no. She was also strong and kind and smart and funny. She was the most interesting, fascinating person he has met in his life.He wanted more than just to look at her. He dreamed about touching her, kissing her, thrusting into her sweet body while her nails scraped over his back. But she was out of reach. She was a client and Gold was nothing if not a professional.

With his cane in one hand, he guided her to the grey, plushy sofa in the middle of his roomy office with his other hand placed lightly on her shoulder blade. Tears streamed down her face as she sat down, pressing her knees together.

During his career as a divorce lawyer he had seen all kinds of reactions to the finalization of a divorce. Some people very happy and wanted to celebrate, some walked taller like a weight had suddenly been lifted, some seemed to shrink, hunching their shoulders and a lost look in their eyes.

He recognized that look in Belle. He sat down next to her, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

“I'm sorry, I'm a little overwhelmed,” she said and a tear rolled down her face. She wiped over her cheek with the back of her hand. “I'm so silly. I apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Holding the cane with his knees, he reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out the purple handkerchief he wore today. He offered her his handkerchief. When he offered it to her, she took it with a grateful little smile that made him want to pull her in his arms and kiss all her troubles away.

“Thank you,” she said and patted her face with it. “I know it's silly. I just can't believe I'm divorced.”

“Do you regret it?” he asked, but what he really wanted to know was if she still was in love with Gaston. Jealousy flared up inside him and he tightened his grip around the cane while he pulled his other hand from Belle's back and gripped his knee. “Do you want him back?”

She shook her head. “I think I never loved him.” She spoke so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

Relief shot through him but guilt followed quickly. He shouldn't be happy that she had had a loveless marriage. He was a jealous, pathetic creature. But the situation wasn't about his shortcomings, it was about Belle. Whatever he could give to her, he would give. Right now she needed a friend.

He cleared his throat. “What is it then, sweetheart?”

“I just …” She looked at the handkerchief in her hands. “It's pathetic.” She fiddled the fabric.

“You can tell me,” he reassured her softly, trying to concentrate on being a friend instead of a foolish man with a crush on his client. “Even if it's embarrassing, privilege prevents me from telling a soul about it.”

“How reassuring.” She chuckled dryly. She folded the fabric of the handkerchief smaller and smaller.

He reached over and covered her hands with his. Finally she looked at him, her eyes widened.

“Just tell me,” he said, “I'm your lawyer. There's nothing I can't fix with my rhetoric.”

“My whole adult life I was either Gaston's girlfriend or his wife.” She shrugged and nibbled on her bottom lip, before she continued, “I have no idea who I am without him. How you're gonna fix that with your rhetoric?” She looked at their hands.

“Don't need rhetoric for that.” He sighed. How could such a wonderful person like she not realize how extraordinary she was? “Look at me.” He squeezed her hands. “Look at me!”

He waited until their gazes met again.

“First time we met you asked me to be your divorce lawyer. Remember?”

She nodded.

“I could argue I never met you as Gaston's wife.” He gave her his shark smile. “When we met, your marriage was already over because you decided you deserve better than to be cheated on.” He let go of her hands and cradled her face, while he leaned into her. “And you were right,” he said sternly, “you deserve much better. You deserve so much more than he could ever give you. You are smart, you are strong and you are beautiful.” And so sexy. 

She pressed into his palm. “You really think that?”

“Oh, I don't think it, I know it,” he replied without hesitation. Her skin was soft and her lips full and swollen from all her nibbling. He wanted to kiss her. He swallowed hard. “Gaston didn't _de_ fine you. He _con_ fided you.“

Her lips curled into a smile and her tongue slipped out and ran over her bottom lip. Then it was his mouth nibbling on her bottom lip, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. He could taste her. Green Tea and wild honey. Utterly delicious. He wanted to drown in her. He wanted to spread her legs and bury his face between her thighs to find out how she tasted there. His cock twitched in his trousers. 

She made a choked up sound and reality hit him. He pulled away from her and stood up as quickly as his damaged ankle allowed him. He was losing his mind, but that was no excuse. What kind of friend hit on a women in emotional distress? What kind of _lawyer_ did that to his _client_? His behavior was unprofessional at best. Disgusting.

“I'm sorry, that was out of line,” he uttered, shame, arousal and guilt tilting his face red. He hobbled backwards to the desk, giving her space. “I shouldn't have done that.”

“Why not?” She uncrossed her legs and uncrossed them again, making her grey skirt wander up her thighs.

“You're a client. It was unprofessional,” he said, peeling his gaze of the bare skin of her thighs and focusing on the floor. “I'm sorry.” He was sorry for his semi hard cock and he was sorry for thinking about kneeling in front of her and kissing his way up from her peep toed high heels to the inside of her thighs. He was really, truly sorry for wanting to bury his cock inside her and fuck her until she would forget that Gaston ever existed. So sorry.

Belle stood up from the sofa. “Kiss me again,” she said, lifting her chin.

Every cell in his body wanted to leap to her and do her bidding, but her fingers were still fiddling with his handkerchief and she wasn't herself. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?” she dropped the handkerchief and it landed on the ground.

Gold tried to remember why he wasn't tearing at her clothes yet. “You're in a fragile state.” Exactly. He wouldn't be the dick that took advantage of a woman who trusted him. “It's not fair.”

“So making me feel good would be taking advantage of me.” She took a step forward.

“Yes.” He took a step back, stumbling against his desk. “What?”

Belle tilted her head, licking her lips. “Do you think me weak because I want to sleep with you?”

“I …” He was grateful for the desk behind him, otherwise he would've fallen flat on his ass.

Belle lifted her hands and slowly opened the very top button of her blouse.

Gold swallowed hard, reaching behind him to support himself on the desk, his cane wasn't enough any more. “What are you doing?”

“I don't feel fragile any more, Rum.” She undid two more buttons, exposing the swell of her breasts. Another button and he could see the yellow laced lining of her bra. Thinking got hard as all his blood flooded to his lower region. He wanted to feel the weight of her breasts. He wanted to press his face in the valley between them and lick her sweet skin.

He cleared his throat. “Maybe we should finish this conversation tomorrow.”

She smirked and shook her head. “I love how you look at me.” Two more buttons opened. Three more. Four. Five.

His mouth went dry and his cock got painfully hard. Maybe this was a dream. One of the strangest nightmares he ever had.

Six, seven. She smiled at him and pulled the blouse out of her skirt.

He groaned. “Belle …”

“You make me feel beautiful. You make me feel sexy,” she said with a husky voice and unbuttoned the last two buttons before she pulled the fabric apart. She slipped out of it in an elegant move that pushed her breasts upward, then the blouse fell to the ground and covered up the handkerchief.

She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to to follow the curve of her waist with his hands he wanted to dip his tongue in her bellybutton.

His gaze followed her hands as she pulled down the zipper at the side of her skirt. She shimmied her hips and the skirt glided down her legs and sunk to her feet. She stepped out of it, one step further in his direction. If he would stretch out his arms he could touch her.

Her panties matched her bra, yellow with laced linings.

“I love how you look at me,” she said and ran her hands up from her thighs over her breasts to her hair, lifting the curls and stretching herself. So. Sexy.

His arousal was getting painful. He knew it must be obvious to her. The tent in his trousers was hard to overlook.

Smiling, she crossed her arms and shimmied the straps of her bra down her arms and slipped out of them, before she reached behind her. Then, split seconds later, her bra dropped. Her breasts looked delicious. Full enough to fill up his hands, he suspected. With puckered nipples he wanted to suck and lick.

“Please,” he uttered, not really sure what he was begging for. Mercy, maybe.

He drew in a sharp breath when she pulled her panties down her legs slowly and stepped out of them. She kept his gaze the whole time. He wanted her so badly it hurt. When she straightened herself up, she stood naked before him, only wearing her heels. 

She stepped closer and placed her hands on his shoulders before she ran them down his chest over his stomach down to the waist of his pants. Her fingers hooked under his belt, then one hand scooped lover and cupped his cock through the fabric of his trousers.

“Tell me you don't want me and I'll stop,” she whispered close to his mouth.

His cane landed on the floor with a loud thud and she shrieked as he pulled her against him, his hands grabbing her hips. He swallowed her sounds, then explored her mouth. His hands moved to her ass and he massaged her globes before he lifted her a little and twirled them around in a hasted move, not to put too much weight on his ankle for too long, until he had her sitting on his desk, her legs spread and wrapped around his waist.

He broke away from her mouth and peppered her face with kisses, making her giggle, before he moved on to her throat, licking and nibbling on her skin, which made her moan his name and buck her hips against his, so he did it again and again. Her hands moved restlessly over his clothed back up to his nape to play with his hair.

He abandoned her throat to nibble on her collar bone, the tops of her breasts until her pulled one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked on it. She keened and pressed into him. He loved every sound she made. He switched to her other breast and repeated his actions. 

Then he unhooked her legs from his waist and took a step back. She gasped. Her hands in his hair, she tried to pull him back to her, betrayal written in her eyes. But he sunk to his knees, his hands on her thighs, holding her open for him.

He could see her pussy, glistening and wet, her labia swollen. His mouth watered, he was hungry for her. She gasped again when he leaned forward and licked over her slit. She tasted like freedom, like peace. He could die a happy death between her thighs, her taste on his lips. 

He licked again, using one hand to spread her folds, his thumb drawing circles over her clit. She keened. Then he repositioned his hand, thrusting one finger into her wet heat while he sucked gently on her clit and she shrieked his name. He added another finger, thrusting into her with added speed.

Unable to resist, he reached down with his free hand and massaged his cock through his trousers to get some release. He soothed over her clit with his tongue before poking it. He traced her folds, enjoying her rich taste then he returned to her clit, sucking on it once more. He could feel her inner walls tighten around his fingers and her upper body went stiff as she came hard. Just feeling that send him over the edge and he spilled his seed in his pants. But it didn't matter. nothing mattered but Belle. He lapped at her juices, kept moving his fingers, more gentle now, allowing her to ride out her high.

Eventually she pulled him back by his hair, forcing him to look at her. She looked flushed, relaxed. Contorting her upper body, she moved until she could kiss him. He knew she would taste herself on him and he loved the mixture of all her nuances that her tongue added to his mouth. She pulled him up until he was standing on shaky legs. His hands wandered over her thighs to her hips until they spanned her waist. Her fingers played with his hair, slowly, softly. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

He shook his head. “My pleasure.”

“Not really.” She smiled shyly and wrapped her legs around him again, pulling him into her until his legs rested against the side of the desk.

“You're breathtaking when you come,” he said and kissed the tip. “I could do this all day.”

“Next time I need you inside of me.” She turned her face and captured his mouth once more. 

She sighed when she pulled away and he couldn't get enough of simply looking at her. Her reddened lips, her eyes still hazed with desire and bliss, her curls tousled. She was indeed beautiful. What a fortunate bastard he was.

  
  


The End


End file.
